In another life
by MelittaGannicus
Summary: In a world where Ilithyia does push Lucretia off the balcony, Spartacus greets his newborn son. Threeshot, with the possiblity of a continuation. Please read and review!
1. Chapter 1

**Hi all! Given the rather tragic fate of the baby, I couldn't help but write this. Enjoy!**

**As always, nothing is mine.**

**Three shot: Part 1: the baby is born**

Every time she closed her eyes, the image flashed before her lids: Lucretia's face- the horror on it as she fell from the balcony. There was no escaping the condemnation in Lucretia's gaze, the betrayal…towards Ilithyia or the gods who had abandoned her, Ilithyia could not tell.

As birth pains wracked her slender frame, Ilithyia could not help but think that this was Lucretia's punishment from the underworld.

The storm that had started earlier in the evening was now out in full force, thunder and lightning splitting the sky. Screams pierced the ludus, as Amana soothed her mistress.

"Where the fuck is the medicus?"

"The child not expected for a few weeks, _Domina_. He was in town. We have sent some guards for him."

Ilithyia arched off the bed, the result of a particularly strong contraction. "My babe claws at me! He does not want to leave the womb to be born in this cursed house!"

"Be calm, _Domina_" Amana pleaded. "Be calm, or the child will come early."

"Do not speak to me of calm! My child will not be born here-argh!"

Ilithyia grabbed at her slaves hand, squeezing it hard as another contraction hit. They were coming closer together, and she was terrified. Part of her wished Lucretia was here, but most of her was praying to the gods to make the pain stop and protect her child.

"Amana! I don't care if he is speaking with Jupiter himself! Get the fucking medicus!"

The hours passed by slowly, but the pain did not abate. The medicus came and insisted that Ilithyia remain where she was. At the stage of her labor she was too far gone to move. Ilithyia wanted to claw his face off for suggesting her babe be born in the House of Batiatus, but her strength had been sapped by the pains of her labor.

"How long has passed?" she muttered, head lolling on the bed. The pain was unceasing now, and the medicus had claimed that the child was quickly coming.

"Dawn breaks in a few hours." The man answered, distracted.

"Dawn." Gaius would be getting ready to begin his siege on Vesuvius right now. Fitting that his heir would be born during his triumph.

Another screamed ripped from her throat.

"The child comes." The medicus hissed.

"Yes, I know, I can feel it, you stupid fuck!" Ilithyia shrieked at him before tossing her head back in pain.

"Then you know to _push_. _Now!_"

Sobbing in terror and distress, begging the gods for help, Ilithyia did as the medicus instructed.

_Gods please watch over my child…give him the strength and endurance of his father. Please, let him have health, my world will end if he is not alright…gods…please…Juno, watch over my son…_

A small eternity passed as she kept praying and pushing, and as dawn broke an echoing cry split through the ludus.

"A boy." The medicus pronounced, lifting the squirming bundle and passing it to Amana. As he dealt with the afterbirth, the slave started using water from a nearby basin to wash the blood away.

"Give me my child." Ilithyia slurred, using the last of her strength to push herself up. Slaves bustled around her, changing the linens and plumping the bed beneath her. Amana obeyed, handing her the babe. Ilithyia guided him to her breast, where he latched on. She smiled as her son cooed in her arms, suckling contentedly.

"He is remarkably healthy for an early birth, and seems strong as well." The medicus remarked.

Ilithyia, who was far more aware of the true date of conception, merely commented that the child had inherited his father's strength.

Her babe was beautiful, tiny and perfect in every way. Gaius would have no complaint of his heir, and her son would go on to scale heights unknown in the Republic. Ilithyia could not wait to begin the religious ceremonies, but Gaius was needed to oversee them. She would not have her son unnamed for long. A guard stood at the entrance of the chamber, and Ilithyia beckoned him inward.

"Go to my husband, and tell him that his heir has been born. I don't care what his protests are, he needs to end the siege and come back."

The guard nodded, turned and left. Ilithyia smiled down at her quietly cooing son. Already, the wretched house seemed brighter, her son bringing life into it. She remembered what Lucretia had said. _Life flourishes in the House of Batiatus. _

_You were right, my friend. I pray you find your husband and happiness in the afterlife._

Things would be perfect from now on. And if a part of her was raging in regret and remorse, for Lucretia, for _Spartacus, _well she would suppress it. Her son deserved no less.

The day passed, but no news from Gaius came.

"What do you mean the messenger has not come back yet?" Ilithyia asked, frustrated. The babe slept on, oblivious to his mother's rage.

"With the siege it could be that…." The guard tried to explain before she interrupted him.

"Fuck my husband's excuses! The messenger was sent at dawn with the fastest steed, he should have been back by now!" Taking a deep breath, Ilithyia tried to calm down. But it was futile. Gaius knew that the religious ceremonies had to be observed in order to avert ill luck from the child, and to avoid the wrath of the gods. Her life had taken such turns, that Ilithyia no longer wished to play with her fate. Not when there was a child in the mix. She would suffer no risks for her babe.

"Apologies, but we must wait for the messenger. Surely your husband will be successful..."

"I do not care for your opinions. Make the carriage ready and comfortable."

"You are going to the encampment? In the middle of the night?"

Ilithyia snorted, fed up with the stupidity of the man in front of her.

"No, I make way to Rome. On the morrow. Send another messenger and tell my husband I shall take the path close to Vesuvius. If he has sense, he will come and greet his heir and return with me. The ceremonies will take place in a timely manner."

The guard began to protest, then reconsidered as he looked into her eyes. Bowing meekly, he made his way out of the room.

Ilithyia sighed, lowering herself on the bed, and turning to her sleeping son. She put a hand on his stomach and watched it rise and fall, promising herself that she would never let anything happen to him.

"Wake me when we are near ready to leave." She ordered Amana, before succumbing to exhaustion, following her son to the lands of Morpheus.


	2. Chapter 2

"Another rider approaches." Agron shouted, alerting the rebels in the encampment below.

"His destination will be the underworld as well." Crixus declared, adjusting his sword as he prepared to

intercept the messenger.

"Wait." Spartacus furrowed his brows. The others gathered around him, waiting for their leader to

speak.

"Heat of battle killed the previous Roman, but foolishness will not kill another…not when his mouth

might give forth secrets we need."

"What knowledge could a lowly messenger have?" Gannicus asked, taking a swig of his wine.

"It is his master that I am concerned with. Whosoever is sending these men seeks Glaber with great

urgency. Such haste shall work well for us, should we seize opportunity."

"Spartacus…"

"We need to know more of Rome. Glaber was known to me, but none of us will recognize the others

that Rome will send after us. Any information we can gleam gives us more to defeat our enemy."

"You speak wisely," Crixus concurred, "We will capture this Roman fuck, and find out what we need to

know before we leave Vesuvius."

"Gather the scouts." Spartacus commanded. "And give order to capture the man, so that we may pry

truths from his tongue."

XXXXXX

"Make no sound, and follow." Aertha whispered, beckoning Spartacus and Crixus to walk behind her.

It seemed a small eternity passed as rebels waited for the horseman to arrive, and Spartacus cursed

impatiently. Every moments they stayed increased the risk of exposure, and he was not so confident it

his fledgling army to risk it so soon after a victory.

Finally, a rider burst through the forest, and was quickly subdued by an arrow to his shoulder. His

screams rang in Spartacus's ears as the Roman was dragged from his horse and shoved onto his knees in

front of the rebellion leader.

"Who sent you?" Spartacus demanded, sword tip touching the messengers throat.

"I will not answer to a _slave._" Was the snarled answer.

Agron sighed, the suddenly plunged his sword into the man's arm. The screams echoed throughout the

forest.

"Answer him, you piece of Roman shit!"

"_I will no_t!"

The sword went into the leg next, twisting slowly. The messenger's screams had dissolved into

whimpers by this point and Spartacus squatted in front of him.

"You will die here today," he said slowly, "but it is up to how you die. Tell us what you know and we will

kill you swiftly. If you do not, I will make you beg for death."

Whatever was in this eyes convinced the messenger, and he stammered out the name.

"I come from Ilithyia, the wife of the Praetor…"

"Regarding?"

"The birth of his son."

At the information Spartacus reared back, dropping the sword in his shock. Agron whipped his head to

look at his leader, surprised by the gesture.

"A son?" Spartacus whispered, and the messenger nodded frantically.

"She stated that if he did not come back, she would make way to Rome for her child's naming

ceremonies."

"Ilithyia makes way to Rome now? Where does she travel from?"

"The path around Vesuvius. It is desolate, but considered safer." The Roman gulped. "That is all I know."

Spartacus's smile as he slit the man's throat was a terrible thing to behold. Both Agron and Crixus felt

chills move down their spines as their leader methodically cleaned his sword on the cape.

"Prepare to waylay the carriage." Spartacus commanded softly, looking distant

"Why?" Crixus objected.

"Ilithyia's father was a Roman senator. She knows the upper echelon of the Republic, including men who

will be sent after us. I would have information from her, to aid our rebellion."

"And is that the only reason?"

Spartacus paused. "Ilithyia and I have unfinished business. I would see it done."

XXXXXXXXXX

Ilithyia cursed under her breath as the caravan jostled again. The terrain was rough, and her son had

exhausted himself crying, and was now asleep. She wished she could join him in slumber, but thoughts

of Gaius, of Spartacus, of Lucretia, kept her awake. The bumps on the road were not helping either.

Ilithyia wished they were in Rome, where Gaius could name her son. _Rome_ she thought _where I can finally wipe the taint of Capua off my body. _Though a part of her knew that Spartacus would not be so easy to forget.

She cried out as the carriage lurched, and the babe woke to cry anew. As Ilithyia was hushing him, the sounds from coming from outside registered. Screams and cries rang through her ears, eerily similar to when Gannicus had come take her away. Gathering her courage she peeked outside.

The bodies of her guards greeted her, the carnage seemingly never ending as rebels continued to slaughter the men she had taken with her for her voyage. Ilithyia caught a glimpse of Gannicus, mind flashing back to the time she was captured, as he cut down the men in front of him as if they were chaff.

Looking through the rebels ranks, her eyes found Spartacus as he fought his way to her. Shrinking back into the caravan she scooped up her son, scrunching herself up in a corner, ready to defend him with her life.

Only a few moments later her worst fears were realized as Spartacus ripped off the flimsy cloth barrier protecting her from the massacre. Ilithyia pressed herself into the wall of the caravan, absentmindedly hushing her son as he wailed. She cringed as Spartacus's eyes focused on the babe, and waited for him to speak.


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey all! I know, I know, I disappeared after such a crucial cliffhanger! But what can I say? Between moving to another country and beginning my masters, I had no time and no motivation to actually write. But life has slowed down, so I thought about finishing this fic! Hope you like it- I thought about making them have sex, but honestly, neither Spartacus nor Ilithyia were in a position in this fic to do so. This was all about Sparty meeting his son, and Spartacus and Ilithyia gaining some understanding of each other. Maybe next time? Read and review!**

It seemed as if a small eternity passed before Spartacus's voice sliced through the quiet.

"Is he healthy?" The rebel leader asked, eyes fixated on the squirming bundle in Ilithyia's arms.

When she remained quiet, he repeated the impatiently.

"Yes," Ilithyia answered, voice unsteady. "He is a healthy child."

"Do you have a name for him yet?"

"What in the name of the gods are you talking about Spartacus?" Crixus's impatient voice intruded their strange tableau. "Kill the bitch, the brat, and be done with it." Ilithyia shrank back at the harsh words. Spartacus regarded her impassively.

"My quarrel was with her husband." He answered Crixus. "Not with her. I am no Glaber to punish those innocent of crimes for the deed."

"She is a snake. Better to trample her that allow her to strike again." One of the other rebels, a german from his accent, argued.

"Enough." Spartacus said. "Come out of there, Ilithyia. We need to have words."

Given no choice, she reluctantly made her way out of the carriage, stumbling as she got down. Spartacus steadied her, placing a hand on the baby's back, brushing his fingers over hers. Ilithyia once again cursed her reaction to him, as she shivered from the brief contact.

"Come." Spartacus commanded. "We have much to speak about."

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

"And that is all I know about the current commanders in the army." Ilithyia said, voice hoarse from all the talking Spartacus had made her do. The rebel leader had wanted to know the location of the enemy, their strength, which consuls and tribunes were near the Roman Republic and would most likely be dispatched against them and much more. Ilithyia, through her connections with her father and clan, had known a great deal of information. She hoped her knowledge would spare her. If not her, then her child at least. Surely Spartacus would not kill his own blood?

"So the greatest danger to us is Crassus." Crixus mused from where he was sitting. Ilithyia resisted the urge to look at him. The gaul's encouragement to Spartacus to kill her and her baby was still in her mind. She wished he had been at that ill-fated celebration. Ilithyia would have driven the sword into his chest instead.

"It seems that the Senate will not be so eager to give command to a man so hated." Spartacus answered back, eyes looking farther away. Ilithyia knew his mind was already formulating strategies. Once again she marveled at his intelligence. If only he had been born a Roman. He would have been a fair match for her, and would never have disappointed her as Gaius did.

Her son started fussing, mouthing at her breasts, hungry for his next meal. Ilithyia shushed him, fearful for his safety now that all her information had been spent. Spartacus's eyes fastened on the bundle in her arms, and his eyes softened.

"Feed the boy." He instructed softly. She obeyed, turning to obscure herself before baring her breast to her hungry baby. Had Ilithyia kept an eye on Spartacus, she would have noticed his eyes darkening at the action. As it was, she heard him instruct his rebels to leave them and head back to camp.

"Someone should stay here with you!" The german, Agron, argued.

"I am safe here. There is no one to offer threat." Spartacus replied patiently.

Agron sighed, then shrugged, leaving with the rest of the rebels. Twilight fell as Spartaus and Ilithyia sat in silence, the only sounds being the suckling of their son.

"He is a beautiful boy." Spartacus said finally, coming closer to her and peering at the sleepy baby.

"Yes." Ilithyia answered back, quiet. She could see her attendant waiting for her near the carriage. The girl's loyalty had been such that she had not run, refusing to leave with the rebels. A part of Ilithyia's mind wondered at her loyalty. The rest of it was too busy plotting different ways to get out of the situation.

"It seems he favors you." Spartacus's voice broke into her thoughts. Ilithyia turned to look at him, but her was staring at the baby with great interest.

"He has your hair, and his face is yours."

"No." Ilithyia answered haltingly. Spartacus raised an eyebrow. "His eyes are yours. As are many of his features."

"His eyes?"

"Look." Ilithyia stroked the baby's cheek and its eyes fluttered open, glaring at her sleepily. Spartacus peered closer and chuckled at the green gaze that met his. Her son closed his eyes and went to sleep again, ignoring the larger world around him. Ilithyia wished she had that luxury.

"Are you going to kill us?" She asked Spartacus quietly. "Spare my son. He is a babe, not even the blood of the man you hated so."

Spartacus gazed at her thoughtfully.

"I have no wish to stain my hands with the blood of my blood. My sight is set now towards Rome, and freeing as many of my brother's as I can from the shackles of Roman slavery."

"You will not succeed." Ilithyia said confidently. "Rome will crush you."

"Perhaps." Spartacus conceded. "But Sura told me I was meant for great and terrible things. I move only to fulfill her prophesy."

"Will you never forget her?" Ilithyia whispered. She remembered his words to her on that forest floor, and wondered at the intensity of such a love. And in a deep part of her heart, despaired that she would never feel that sentiment for herself.

"No…I will die with her name on my lips and her image behind my eyes." Spartacus answered back. Silence descended on the clearing again.

"You have not answered my question." Ilithyia finally asked.

"I will not kill you Ilithyia. I will not kill my son. I do wish I could claim him, but my men will never accept an heir of Roman blood. More importantly…" here he paused, looking at the sleeping baby before continuing, "I trend on the path of the dead and the dammed. My son should stay away from me to avoid being condemned. Though I loathe the fact that he shall be raised as a privileged Roman, he will be alive. And he will be free. I can ask no more than that."

"I will tell him of you someday." Ilithyia found herself whispering. "Of his father, a slave who made Rome tremble."

"You lie." Spartacus said gently, raising a hand and stroking her neck. "But it is a sweet lie. Gratitude for speaking it."

Ilithyia swallowed. "Kiss me once." She said. "Kiss me as you would kiss _her._ As thanks for giving you a fine heir."

Spartacus looked at her, eyes unreadable. The he caught her lips with his. The kiss was so unbearably sweet, so unbearably passionate, that Ilithyia found tears running down her cheeks as Spartacus pulled away. He placed a kiss on his sleeping son's head.

"Be strong." Spartacus whispered. "Be brave. Value life, my son. Make me proud."

He kissed Ilithyia again, quick and deep.

"Go." Spartacus commanded hoarsely. "Go to Rome and do not look back."

Ilithyia hurried away to the carriage, where her slave was already sitting on the reins.  
"I know how to make it move, Domina." She said shyly. Ilithyia nodded, getting on top of the carriage, holding her son securely in her arms. The horses started moving, and she kept her gaze ahead.

She did not look back. She did not need to. Ilithyia knew their paths would cross again. The gods were not done with them yet.


End file.
